Dear Em

eight

Dear Em,
I figured it was time that I talk about the day you broke up with me. Well, I guess it can't actually be called a breakup the way it happened.

I'm sure you remember how it went from your perspective, but you never knew my side of the story. You didn't care, either. You just... left. I woke up one morning, the sun's light breaking through the window so intensely that I was momentarily blinded. I looked over, expecting to see your pure, smiling face and love-filled eyes, my view every morning. You weren't there. Stupidly, I had assumed you were making a surprise breakfast for me, so I tip-toed down the stairs, ready to surprise you, but you weren't there either. My house didn't smell like pancakes or bacon... or like anything was cooking, it was the same tropical Febreeze scent I've always had floating through the air.

So I dialed your number, just to see where you were and when you'd get back. You didn't answer, so I left a voice message. I let half an hour pass before I texted you. Another half hour before I called again. I kept up this pattern, calling every hour or so, my voicemails becoming more worried, urgent. Not once did I get an answer. You never called back, never texted... you didn't do anything, Ember. You didn't even have enough respect for me to leave a note or a message or something to even say you wanted to end things. An unbreakable silence was all I got from you, and all I get from you.

That was three weeks ago, Em. But three weeks isn't enough time to heal myself. I need you to-- to know how I feel. It won't make a difference, I know, but maybe it'll help you understand why I'm writing these letters to you, why I'm taking so long to heal.

Ember, the day you left me broke me. You broke me. I don't mean you broke my heart, God, I wish it were that simple. There was a numbness that took over me. I couldn't move, couldn't eat or sleep. Every moment of every day was overtaken by thoughts of you, by questions of "Why? What did I do wrong?" and by a deep hatred... towards myself. I blamed myself for you leaving. For weeks I thought everything was my fault, that I did something wrong, something horribly wrong to make you no longer love me.
You made me question the importance of my life, and I almost killed myself because of you. I'm glad I didn't, because then you'd be holding my life in your hands, you would have the power, the control. There would be no more chances for redemption, for freedom from you, Ember, no more days where I can look at someone and not feel like my gut is cursing me and my heart is in shambles because 'Ember Ember Ember.' And now I'm getting frustrated with myself because I can't find the words to come close to describing how I felt, how I feel, to describe the pure lacking that is inside of me since you've been gone and now you're asking yourself why I feel empty if I've let you go and the answer Ember, is that I DON'T KNOW. Maybe it's because even if everything was fake for you, it was so real to me. Maybe it's because I felt beautiful when you looked at me, and like I didn't merely exist in the world but i was apart of it. With you I felt invincible, indescribable, irreplaceable.

Now, Ember, now I have to learn how to feel those things on my own. If I am truly going to let you go, to free myself from your spell, then I have to make myself remember what it was like to live without you. I have to start fresh.

Ember, I love you. I probably always will, somewhere in my heart. You've left a scar, but one that doesn't determine who I am, but one that is merely a reminder of a lost love. This entire time I've wanted to hate you and forget about you completely, but neither of those things will ever happen, no matter how much I want them to. I've always been told that you can never forget your first love, and I believe that. You opened my heart to new emotions, and for that I am eternally grateful.

All the best,
Nyssa